


You Will Surely Be The Death Of Me (But How Could I Have Known)

by spoopsboops



Series: Born of Necessity [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dysfunctional Family, Generational Trauma, Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Prequel to Faults Enough AU, Raven is a redeemable character kinda, Ultimately a story about fear and lost chances, man these tags aren’t very happy, parenthood!STR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoopsboops/pseuds/spoopsboops
Summary: Taiyang Xiao Long wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Yang rages against the unfairness of the world: the loss of her mother twice over, his own letdowns as a father, all of the responsibilities she had to take on with Ruby and he knew, he knew that gods, she was just like him. Never allowed to be just a normal kid. She was also just like her. It was why he feared that as a last resort he would have to call in reinforcements...if he could trust that she wouldn’t make everything worse.
Relationships: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Series: Born of Necessity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186337
Comments: 36
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Probably_Momo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Momo/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a direct prequel to Faults Enough (But Not of Understanding). It explores what went on in Yang’s life around and before the time of her accident and the events that left the indelible marks on her life that carry through to Faults Enough. I dig pretty deep into some heavy traumatic things here, folks, and this is not a very happy story, but it means the world to me that @Probably-Momo wanted me to bring Team STRQ and Yang’s experience to life and I’m honored that you’re here to read it!  
> In this story we get mom issues, dad issues, angsty teenagers, illegal activities, violence, minor character death, graphic descriptions of a motorcycle accident, hospitals, Team STRQ and polySTR flashbacks...there’s a lot. I will tag my chapters with content warnings beforehand.
> 
> Constructive comments are appreciated. Please go gently, this is the first thing I have written in twelve years and the first thing I’ve ever published.

Please enjoy this prequel to @Probably_Momo ‘s fic “[Faults Enough (But Not of Understanding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338785/chapters/66797164))”

Taiyang Xiao Long wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Xiao Long Automotive was struggling after an economic downturn. Yang always helped out around the shop, earning a fair wage over the weekends when she was available to work, but lately she’d been skipping work for...who knows what. 

He was relatively sure he knew who she hung out with most of the time- hopefully Jaune and Nora at the skatepark, but who knew these days. It was the times he was unsure of, the times he answered calls from Signal about her detentions, caught a waft of skunky weed on her clothes, or noticed the poorly-disguised hickeys peeking beneath her collar. Those moments set his alarm bells off. 

The surly responses, flares of anger and “what do you care anyway?”, the quintessential teenage pouting when he docked her wages to make up for skipped time...that was him, once upon a time, back when he was nineteen, nearly twenty. He couldn’t watch his oldest daughter slide into his own bad habits. He knew where it got him. Hell, those behaviors eventually brought her into his world at a much earlier age than he had been planning for. Not that he’d trade that for the world. 

She rages against the unfairness of the world: the loss of her mother twice over, his own letdowns as a father, all of the responsibilities she had to take on with Ruby and he knew, he _knew_ that gods _,_ she was just like him. Never allowed to be just a normal kid. She was also just like _her._ It was why he feared that as a last resort he would have to call in reinforcements...if he could trust that she wouldn’t make everything worse. 

*****

Yang received a call on the shop line. That in itself was odd, because any of her friends would have just texted her scroll. Her dad beckoned her over, passing the landline to her. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

“Hey, kid.” The voice was rough but melodic, a smoky rasp cutting through the low contralto. Yang could barely breathe. “Your old man says you’re pretty good with a wrench. Looks like you inherited the best of both of us.” 

Silence stretched tight between them for many long moments. It was Raven. A memory from a few weeks prior came unbidden into her mind, and Yang’s voice caught in her throat.

_Yang fidgeted in her seat as she waited for her name to be called. A gentle breeze rustled the budding, new summer leaves of the trees that surrounded the quad. It was graduation day. She was finally done with school, and she had the whole summer ahead of her before she needed to make any big decisions about jobs or college. Yang was free to do whatever she wanted, at least for a while._

_She pivoted in her seat to look over her shoulder, trying to spot her family in the crowd. The principal called her name, nearly startling her out of her chair. Taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart, she stood and walked towards the podium. Her father and Ruby sat together near the front row, cheering and clapping as Yang crossed the stage to accept her diploma. Yang searched the crowd- why wasn’t Qrow there? There’s no way that he would skip the most important day of her high school career..._

_Her blood ran cold. He was there, smiling earnestly yet sheepishly, seated a few rows behind her dad and sister. Qrow was seated next to a woman who looked like a female carbon copy of himself, with flowing black locks and a piercing scarlet stare that Yang recognized in the deepest part of her soul. Yang froze and the world went silent. Gods. Her birth mother, Raven, was there. There for the first time ever._

_The flash from her dad’s camera snapped her back to the present. Yang blinked and hurried to her seat, diploma in hand. The rest of the ceremony dragged on, and Yang’s impatience and curiosity burned into her._

_The Signal graduates tossed their caps and cheered, and when Yang turned to look back towards the audience, her mother was gone._

Yang forced the words out,

“What do you want?”

A week later, Yang faced Raven across the table in a greasy spoon diner. Yang picked at her fries, skeptical yet fascinated. This woman was supposedly her mother, but she was a world apart from the ghostly concept that Yang had clung to. While the stern-looking woman in the booth across from her seemed hardened to the world around her, she didn’t appear to Yang to be the cold, faceless, uncaring woman who abandoned her and her father when she was a baby. That mental image, that disconnect from this part of herself, had both haunted and comforted Yang over the years. It brought her peace of mind when she and her father fought over the same old things: _how can I be just like someone I don’t even know how to be like?_

Nor was she soft. Raven was all angles and uninviting posture, a far cry from the smiling eyes and open enthusiasm that Summer had radiated. She carelessly propped her chin in her palm, elbows on the table; a posture that Summer would have scolded Yang for as a child. It was obvious that Raven was the source of Yang’s unruly mane of hair. She noted with a touch of mirth that despite the bandanna securing Raven’s locks away from her face, a rebellious whorl of hair had poked its way free, and it curled upwards from her scalp in the same place as Yang’s own. 

Fuck her for waiting eighteen years to finally show up in her life, but...gods, Raven was exactly what Yang had daydreamed that her birth mom would be, in the rare moments where she imagined another life for herself. She was everything that Yang had tried to cultivate in her own personal image. Raven exuded cool confidence, crossing her arms and leaning back in the booth, unblinking gaze watching as Yang observed her. Her well-worn, tasseled black leather jacket had accents that defined her biceps. Her motorcycle leathers creaked as she shifted, breaking the silent standoff. 

Raven sighed, tapping lacquered blood-red fingernails against the table. “I know this is pretty out of the blue, but your dad told me you didn’t know what your plans were after graduation. I’d like to offer you a….summer job, if you will. If you can prove it to me that you can make the cut.” 

*****

There were very few engines that Yang hadn’t worked on, but Tai had shut down each and every one of Yang’s requests to work on motorcycles. He remembered the thrill of the rumble of his first bike. He could almost feel the deafening roar of the engine as he put it through its paces, chasing Raven up and down the highway, weaving in between cars and trucks without a care in the world for their own safety or what may come. He thought that he was protecting her, but maybe he had only been protecting himself the whole time. Maybe he should have known that by denying Yang that experience, she would naturally sink her teeth into the topic even harder. 

*****

The bus ride was a long and winding trip south through Vale to the dilapidated industrial sprawl of Mountain Glenn. Yang watched the unfamiliar sights go by: small business centers were patchworked amongst derelict factories and vacant lots. The bus rolled through neighborhoods filled with hundred-year-old brick apartment buildings, overgrown parks, and small working-class homes. Despite its outward appearance, the town still boasted a small and determined population.

Yang deboarded at one of the last stops on the line and walked down the road towards her destination. Glancing around her, guard high, she noted the unfamiliar names on the worn buildings around her: _Winchester and Son Fabrication: Family Owned Since 1942_ , _Black Leatherworks,_ and others. The distant hum of a compressor and the revving of a motorcycle engine had Yang hurrying towards the building on the far corner. The sheet-steel sign above the door of the drab, unremarkable building read BRANWEN MOTORS.

A cheerful bell jingled as Yang pushed through the heavy front door of Branwen Motors. Yang couldn’t help it, despite her jangling nerves she gawked at the abundance of tools, machines, and bikes in the spotless shop within the dumpy looking building. The expensive tools looked more at home in a dealership in the wealthy part of Vale. A familiar woman in grease stained coveralls stood, setting her torque wrench down on a tool cart. 

“Ah, you made it. You’re early, too. Good. If you’re on time, you’re late. Follow me.”

Raven led Yang through the shop and out to a shipping container in the back of the dry, cracked dirt lot behind Branwen Motors. She cracked the latches, swinging the creaking doors wide. “Go on.” Raven encouraged her, nudging Yang towards the object covered by a blue tarp. 

Yang’s breath hitched in her throat and she hesitated before drawing the tarp away from the machine beneath it: a beautiful motorcycle, pearlescent crimson, black, and shining chrome. Yang knew from her motorcycle magazines that it was a Honda Shadow, likely released around the time she was born, but she hesitated to put her hands on it. 

“This was one of my first bikes. Your father bought it for me. I let one of my guys borrow it recently and he had an...unfortunate encounter with a large body of water. Get it running again and it’s yours, so is his job. Consider it an early birthday present.” 

Yang’s jaw dropped in awe. Her eyes darted between the bike and her birth mother, her brain deftly debating whether this generous gift came with a catch or not. “Wow...how long was it submerged?? Uh, well, I hope you have a shitload of replacement parts. And, thank you?” 

A wry grin graced Raven’s normally impassive face before she turned and sauntered back towards the shop. “Not long, but you figure it out. Get a move on, kid. We don’t have all day. Bring her on in. Tools are in the garage, just make sure you clean them off and put them the fuck back when you’re done with them.”

*****

The day was humid; one of the first truly hot days of the early summer season. Yang was working outside, running a thorough diagnostic on Raven’s old bike. Thankfully, it appeared that the machine had not spent too much time submerged in water. With the air filter laid out in the sun to dry, she awkwardly wrenched the bike around in an attempt to drain the water from the exhaust system. The bike was cumbersome and very heavy, and the work difficult to do on her own. Yang removed the headers and rolled her eyes in dismay- she heaved the front end of the bike upwards and water leaked out of the exhaust ports. This was going to be a bigger job than she’d anticipated. 

As she set to removing the spark plugs, a lanky man with a greasy blond ponytail stalked alongside her. “Hey, who hired the entertainment?” He chuckled, coming to a stop too close for Yang’s comfort. 

_Don’t let him get to you_ , she chided herself. _He’s just another insecure guy intimidated by a girl who knows what she’s doing_. 

“Why don’t you just try the kickstarter?” 

Yang sighed, setting her spark plug socket wrench down on the tool cart, frustration building in her core. She wanted this guy to get bored and buzz off, but that didn’t seem likely. She turned to face him. He was in his mid twenties and not much taller than she was, but she could see that he had a good fifty pounds on her. Trying to contain her frustration, she fired back, “You can see just as well as I can that this bike doesn’t have a godsdamned kickstarter. Who the fuck are you and what’s your problem, huh?” 

Flares of anger built up in her core. She hated it when people questioned her competence, trying to catch her out because she was _too pretty_ or _too girly_ to know how an internal combustion engine runs. Great, one of the other employees had stopped to watch. 

The man pointed to a grubby name patch on his oily denim coveralls. Shay, it read. 

Yang scoffed, reaching back towards her tool cart. 

Shay sneered, “Oh, y’know, just had to be sure Raven knew what she was doing when she took on a literal _child_ to take over Bruce’s job.” He laughed, breath reeking of stale cigarettes. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and put on his most intimidating air. “Thought she’d finally popped a screw loose when she told us she’d be bringing on her _daughter_ -“

Yang couldn’t hold back any longer. She pivoted on her heel, bracing and throwing her weight into a solid punch. The hit connected with Shay’s jaw and sent him tumbling backwards into the dirt.

“If your dumbass friend hadn’t submerged this godsdamned bike then maybe you’d be free to waste your time harassing _him_ instead of me.” Yang tried to keep her voice level, yet threatening enough to ensure that he knew she was standing her ground. Oh, it felt _good_ to let that anger out. Those boxing classes at Qrow’s gym had come in handy, after all. 

The other employee whistled and sauntered over to stand near Yang, pacing along Yang’s periphery. Derisive glee graced her face. “Get off your ass, Shay. You’re familiar with the saying, ‘talk shit, get hit’, right?” 

Shay wiped his mouth with his sleeve, hacking out a gob of bloody spittle. His eyes narrowed, but he cocked a half-smile in Yang’s direction, huffing out a laugh and extending a hand, “Just making sure Raven didn’t hire no pussies.” 

Yang considered the hand for a moment before hoisting the man back to his feet. He held her eye before turning away, rubbing his jaw. 

Exhaling in relief, Yang let tension bleed out of her stance. She picked up the wrench and began removing the final spark plug. 

The other woman smirked at Yang. By Yang’s estimation she was two, maybe three years older than Yang. Her dark hair was cropped short and her rolled-up coverall sleeves exposed defined muscular arms, covered in tattoos and a smattering of burns and scars that told a story of years working in mechanical industry. 

“Nice punch, I gotta say. That was oh...a few months overdue to happen. He earned it. I’m Vernal, by the way. Welcome to Branwen Motors. Looks like you’re on to draining the cylinders.” She glanced at the wrench, then up at Yang. 

“Uh, yep. If Bruce tried to drive this across a creek...well, can’t be too careful. Speaking of, why the hell would anyone have driven this bike across a creek? This thing weighs a ton and it’s a cruiser, not a damn dirt bike.” 

Vernal smiled at Yang, then glanced up at a window in the office above the shop. Yang followed her gaze: a curtain fluttered shut. 

“Best not to ask too many questions. You just got here. Anyway. Chock the front tire, shift it into third, and I’ll lift the rear. Start rotating the wheel on my cue.” Yang did, and watched, thoroughly impressed, as Vernal lifted the heavy rear of the bike off the ground. Vernal huffed through gritted teeth, “Well? Hop to it, princess.” 

Yang obeyed.

*****

Six hours later, Yang wheeled the bike to the front of the shop and propped it up on its stand. Raven, unimpressed, pushed the screen door wide and leaned against the frame, a cigarette perched between two fingers. 

“You drained and replaced the oil?”

“Yep.”

“Washed down the chain?”

“Yeah.”

“Not a drop of water left in the cylinders, exhaust, anywhere?”

“Well, we could take it for a ride and spin what’s left out of it.”

A veiled smile flashed across Raven’s face. She huffed out a chuckle, stubbing out her cigarette against the doorframe and chucking the butt into a rusted coffee can. Her crimson eyes searched Yang’s face. Yang wasn’t sure why, but she rebelled against the instinct to maintain eye contact. It was too familiar, as if someone was searching out the core of her being, and that someone was herself. 

“You’re telling me that your father actually let you ride a motorcycle?”

“No, but...if I can fix it, how hard must it be to ride it?”

It was a weak retort and Raven saw right through her. Curling her lower lip in, what, amusement? Raven reached a hand out and traced her long, red nails down Yang’s cheek before patting it once. It was the first time Yang remembered Raven showing her any kind of affection, and it burned into her skin, glowing red hot and burrowing deep. 

Raven’s voice softened, “Oh, honey.” The wrinkles around her eyes thawed for a split second before being replaced by her usual stoic visage.

Yang was left unbalanced when Raven turned on her heel and stalked towards the shop, disappearing into its depths. 

Was that...it?

A deep thrumming resounded from the back of the shop. Yang followed as the sound whipped down the alley behind the shop. It grew louder, more shrill, and more deafening as Raven approached, screeching to a halt on the pavement in front of her. Leaving the engine idling, Raven propped the bike on its stand and lifted herself off of the saddle. 

It was an incredible machine, a brand-new 2008 Ducati 848 built for speed and maneuvering, the detailing undeniably Raven’s with its pewter pipes and crimson feathers accenting the soft matte scarlet of its body. Awestruck, Yang considered the machine and her mother, wondering how exactly a maintenance shop owner was able to afford such a luxurious racing bike. Maybe her birth mother was secretly even more of a badass than she had thought.

Raven tossed a helmet and an armored jacket to Yang, who caught them easily. She looked up at her mother. 

“It’s not all fun and games, kid. We’re going to the gym parking lot and you’re going to practice some basic handling. Gods help me you’ve driven a manual transmission car before, right?”

“Of fucking course I have!”

“Good! Then this will be a fraction of a bit easier for you!”

It was almost a taunt, the sharpness in Raven’s tone a direct challenge to Yang’s ability, but the harshness also evoked a strange warm glow within her heart. Raven expected, no, _demanded_ , that her daughter succeed at this.

“We’re starting with control and confidence. Yeah, you can drive your dad’s tow truck and whatever boring scooter someone throws at you, but that bike weighs more than five hundred pounds and tops out at over a hundred miles per hour. It doesn’t turn like a scooter and it doesn’t shift like one either. Get your head in the game and let’s go. You’re no use to me dead.”

Yang could barely control the grin that broke across her face. She threw her hair back into a sloppy ponytail and pulled the full face helmet over her head, flipping the face shield down.

“Alright, kid. Let’s go for a ride.”

****

Three months had passed since Yang’s first day at Branwen Motors. Unsurprisingly, she jumped at Raven’s offer of a chance to change her life up and start on a new adventure. 

Tai initially balked at the idea. He bristled at the thought of what might happen if Yang was left to her own devices. He was keenly aware of her troublemaker streak, but Raven had reassured him that there would be eyes on her every move. Tai wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that, either. Raven knew deeply how protective Tai was of his oldest daughter. She could hear the audible break in his pride over the fact that he couldn’t provide her with everything she would need to grow into an adult, hopefully one that was less broken than they were.

“It’s not like I’m keeping her prisoner here. Yes, she’s still just fixing bikes. She’ll be renting the room down the hall from the office, Qrow’s old room. You remember. Yang’s a diligent worker- she takes after you well enough- and her rent will be taken from her wages. She has her own transportation- she earned the work on my old bike so I signed it over to her. She’s free to come and go as she pleases, as long as she keeps her head screwed on right.”

Maybe Raven should have expected that Yang would take to riding a motorcycle like a fish to water. She rode with daring certainty and a dreamy confidence; enough so that Raven had to wonder whether the ability to ride could be passed genetically. Her father was there in her swaggering stance, her fiery retorts, her mechanical genius, and her passion for competition. In spite of that, Yang wasn’t a cocky rider; she took direction well and only needed to be reminded of things once, maybe twice. She knew her limitations as a beginner, didn’t sulk when Raven wouldn’t let her try riding a bike beyond her handling, even if she had been the one to repair it. Whenever Yang pulled her helmet off, flipping her wild golden locks out of her face and flashing her a cocky smile, Raven’s cold, weary heart threatened to melt just a little more. 

Tai was in that smile, bright and innocent and filled with an unbreakable joy; and in those eyes, a perfect blend of crimson and sapphire. Raven’s heart ached at the thought of him, but she knew she had made the right choice in letting him go; especially once Yang came into the world, and after that day.

Her work, their very _lives_ to be honest, counted for too much to let emotion cloud her judgement when it came to quick decision making. She desperately hoped that by accepting Tai’s request she wasn’t jeopardizing them all. She would never forget what happened last time.

It was reassuring to realize that Yang hadn’t only inherited Tai’s traits. She admitted to the spark of pride that rose in her chest as she watched her daughter stand her ground against a bully, even if she took care of the situation in an unconventional way. Hell, who was she kidding? She would’ve punched him, too. Even more surprising was the extended helping hand. At her age, she or Tai would’ve laughed and walked away. That gesture was pure Summer.

Summer, likely the reason that Yang had been acting out in the first place. Raven’s heart, her stupid heart, tightened in her chest. Summer had kept the rest of them safe and sound after Raven had torn a ragged hole in their world. She kept life moving ever forwards, mending hearts and bringing new life into the world. 

And then she died. No one could have predicted it, but the nature of her job always left room for risk. Summer was gone, leaving a brand new ragged hole, this time irreparable.

So here Raven was, grappling with the fact that somewhere deep down beneath the myriad layers of her own emotions, a hint of motherly instinct somehow remained. She flicked open her lighter, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep, measured inhale. 

_A filthy habit, oh, I wish you’d give it up,_ Summer echoed in her mind. Leaning heavily against the office desk, she exhaled a resigned lungful of smoke. If she could see it as an obligation, a repayment of a debt to Summer perhaps, then maybe this arrangement would work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The title of this fic is from the song Like The Dawn by The Oh Hellos. Technically, the song is about the Adam and Eve story but it took me listening to the song dozens of times for that to click, so I’m sticking with my initial non-biblical interpretation. When I first heard the song I thought of love, motherhood, and joy, but also fear and regret. I realized that in the context of my story I could think about the lyrics from nearly every character’s perspective and it would fit. The words could be from Raven’s perspective about Yang, Tai’s perspective about Summer, Raven’s perspective about Summer, Summer’s perspective about Yang...I’m curious about how you’ll interpret it as we get into later chapters!
> 
> -To anyone hopping into this world before reading Faults, you’ll notice that there’s no Blake here, but there’s everyone else! Yang, Ruby, and JNPR all grew up together in this world. Yang won’t meet Blake for another three years, and if you want that story (trust me, you do), follow the link at the top of the chapter :)
> 
> -We dive pretty heavily into the world of mechanics here (that’s one of my real-life jobs) so if anyone has questions about what exactly goes on at Branwen Motors or Xiao Long Automotive, please ask!


	2. Chapter 2

Ruby should be happy for her sister. Really, she should. She just...didn’t know how to feel about it. It wasn’t too different than if Yang were abroad for college, right? Ruby could already see that this gap year work experience gig was a positive thing for her sister: Yang was passionate about her work and more invested in the things she loved than Ruby had seen in several years. Yang was getting stronger, less sullen and broody and more confident and adventurous. Most of all, she loved it when Yang came home for a weekend. She took Ruby on motorcycle rides through Vale, zipping down highways and chasing the sunset. She liked this new Yang, but it made her sad that the more Yang threw herself into her new life, the less Ruby saw her.

Texts would go unanswered for days before being hurriedly replied to. 

“ _oh shit, sry didn’t get this til now what’s up?_ ” or “ _hey ill call you later I’m working_ ”. 

Often the promised calls later didn’t come, but Yang almost always showed up to Sunday dinners, albeit sometimes late. Ruby would give her credit for taking the whole day off on Ruby’s eighteenth birthday. Yang reassured her that she could come visit her at the shop anytime, she was only a thirty minute drive away after all, but after her first few visits Ruby didn’t think that she could bring herself to make the trip again. 

Not that she wasn’t fascinated by the machinist’s tools, welders, and motorcycle parts so carefully arranged throughout the shop. Branwen Motors was an engineer’s candy store. But she was unnerved by Raven as well as Yang’s new coworkers, maybe friends? Her coworkers would always stop whatever they were doing when the little bell jingled above the door, signaling her arrival. They made furtive eye contact with each other but not with Yang. 

Then there was Raven, whose penetrating gaze she could feel boring eerily into the depths of her soul. Almost like Raven knew her better than she knew herself. Raven never stayed, never greeted Ruby, but always took off on a ride or headed up to her office whenever Ruby arrived. There was a distance there that Ruby couldn’t quite place. 

Raven was her sister’s birth mother and her uncle’s sister, technically family. For some reason, Ruby didn’t know how to feel about the other woman. The pit dropped out of Ruby’s stomach every time she saw Raven, and she didn’t know why. She disliked herself strongly for it, as Yang obviously thought the world of the older woman. 

Ruby, being the youngest of their friend group, was the only one who hadn’t started college that fall. She sent out texts to Jaune and Pyrrha to ask if they were available to talk, aware that their new academic schedules were likely filled to the brim. After some back and forth about scheduling they ended up meeting for coffee at a cafe near Beacon campus.

“I think a gap year is a good thing for her, honestly.” Pyrrha said, reaching for her mocha. “Traditional college plans aren’t necessarily for everyone.”

“I know that much, it’s just…” Ruby sighed, taking a bite of her glazed donut. “She hardly talks to me anymore, and when she does its Raven this and Vernal that and…”

“Maybe you’re jealous?” Jaune interjected, earning himself a kick in the shin from Pyrrha. He continued, “No judgement, it’s only natural. You used to have one hundred percent of Yang’s attention. Now you don’t.” It was a strange comment, and Ruby noticed the melancholy furrow to Jaune’s brow as the words fell from his mouth. 

Ruby rolled her eyes. “I guess. I miss the way things were. I’m happy she’s happy but...I mean, does she even talk to you guys anymore or is it just me she’s being weird to?”

Pondering the question, Pyrrha took a measured sip of her mocha before setting it back on its saucer. “Come to think of it, I don’t think we’ve had a conversation that wasn’t more than just a few texts since the term started. Though I haven’t been reaching out as much because I’ve been swamped with classes.”

“I’ve been texting her to try to get her to come skate with me for at least a month now. I can see that she’s read them, but she hasn’t replied.” Jaune settled back into the wide leather cafe chair, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ve all been super busy though, Ruby. I wouldn’t think too deeply into it.” 

“...I just don’t want things to change. I’m afraid she will forget about me. About us. She’s...different somehow, and I’m not sure if I like it.”

A silence stretched between the trio. Ruby set her donut back on her plate, unfinished, before slouching back into her seat. Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged a glance. Pyrrha cleared her throat, breaking the tension.

“I know what we’ll do. Winter vacation is coming up soon. We’ll plan a get together, you and Yang, Nora, Ren, and the two of us. Maybe we can convince your dad to let us take a weekend at the Patch cabin, like old times. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds nice. I’ll ask him.” Ruby hoped her weak smile relayed enough certainty to her friends.

Pyrrha’s boundless positivity began breaking through Ruby’s gloom. “We’re growing up, Ruby. Things change, but they don’t have to change for the worse. You’re still planning on coming to Beacon after you graduate, right? Then you’ll get to experience just how insane life can get, especially the closer we get to finals week. Ha, when Yang starts next year you’ll be in the same class!”

“Huh, never thought of it like that. Thanks, guys.”

Ruby’s worry was only somewhat alleviated, but she took a moment to bask in the comfort of her friends’ words. 

She hoped that they were right.

*****

It turned out that Shay wasn’t as much of a massive jerk as his first impression had let on. He was the kind of guy who liked to argue for the sake of argument, which (while annoying) was something Yang quickly learned to ignore. His more redeeming qualities included a creative mind for custom fabrication and a willingness to let Yang assist when modifying a build or drafting out a concept. They sparked off of each other, but they formed an easy friendship nevertheless.

Vernal was more closed off, shut away behind a wall of her own design. She was fiercely loyal to her boss, always the first to volunteer to go one one of Raven’s “runs”, whatever they were. She rarely showed overt emotions, and she was substantially harder on Yang than any of the other employees. Yang assumed that this is because she was “the new kid”, but try as she might she couldn’t help it getting under her skin. Vernal’s words had a bite and a challenge to them whenever they were directed at Yang. 

Vernal was also fascinating. The woman was a speed demon, and Yang imagined that she thrived off of pure adrenaline. Either that, or her sense of fear and danger was missing entirely. When she was not at Branwen Motors she was working on her own bikes, customizing them for the monthly race on the outskirts of town. 

On their most recent trip to drop off a bike for a client, Yang had watched from her bike, dumbfounded, as Vernal rocketed up the highway on their client’s BMW R1200, weaving in and around traffic. It was as if she didn’t care, didn’t notice, that the cars and trucks around her were also going over the speed limit. Yang accelerated, trailing her from a safer distance. She could hear Vernal’s engine thrumming, speeding up into a high-pitched whine as she took a deep turn, extending her knee as if she truly were competing in a race. She had to have been at least twenty miles per hour above the speed limit. 

Yang lost sight of Vernal momentarily but caught her a few seconds later, drifting back into the right lane, decelerating and lazily weaving slaloms from one side of the lane to the other. Yang sped up until she was alongside Vernal, who signaled that they were to take the next exit.

They dropped the BMW off with the client, a wealthy son of a mining entrepreneur. As they were preparing to head back to Branwen Motors, Yang had to question her.

“Holy shit dude, I didn’t think we were allowed to mess around on a client’s bike like that. That was...intense.”

“Well yeah. He asked for some very specific engine tuning. I was confirming that it was all up to spec, which it was.”

“You were going like a hundred for a bit there. What if you had gotten pulled over on a client’s bike? What if you’d wrecked?”

“I don’t wreck.”

There it was again, the confidence and the confrontation. While Yang found the attitude a little grating, it was also undeniably attractive. She set that thought aside to examine at a later time, and sent a smirk her way.

“Yeah, sure. Not _yet._ ”

Vernal swung herself up onto the back of Yang’s bike. “Honey, I’ve been racing for the last six years and have been working for your mother for nearly that long. Your attitude is cute and all, but I’m hot, I’m beat, and I’m done answering your questions. Now be a good escort and drive me back.” She snapped her face shield down with a definitive _clack_.

Yang quickly did the math and realized that Vernal must have been riding motorcycles since she was fifteen, maybe sixteen years old. Gods, if only her dad had let her start riding sooner, then maybe she could’ve had the chance to be where Vernal was now. Maybe she would have met her mother sooner.

“Yes, ma’am.”

*****

Yang was even more of a quick study than Raven had anticipated. She admired the way that her daughter threw herself into her work. Yang built tentative and competitive friendships with the other employees, but didn’t let them pull her astray from her goals. Her curiosity, however, was often vexing and always inconvenient.

Raven slid her office window open, leaning out over the rear lot of the shop to light a cigarette. She surveyed the lot: Shay was showing off his kickboxing skills to Yang, pummeling the daylights out of a standing punching bag he had dragged out of the depths of storage and set up outside of the shop for recreational downtime. 

Yesterday it was Yang demonstrating some boxing techniques that she had undoubtedly learned from Qrow. The creased and faded punching bag had been Tai’s and once stood in the corner of the shop, easily accessible for bursts of young male energy or frustration at a job gone wrong. Raven huffed a laugh. Her philosophy was that it was better to discipline your anger and to focus on never making the same mistake again. 

Raven didn’t have the heart to tell Shay that he was barking up the wrong tree- it was plain as day that boys were not Yang’s type- but the extra effort towards physical fitness that he put in for his unrequited infatuation pleased Raven. Though she could see that, eventually, she would need to remind him of his place. He knew better. She needed her employees to maintain peak physical condition for their line of work, and not just for motorcycle maintenance. 

Their work was dangerous: it required them to be agile and dexterous, both on their motorcycles and on their feet. It fostered a pack mentality: one weak link could bring the whole enterprise crashing down. Work was the priority. Emotions, entanglements, attachments...those caused hesitations, which caused mistakes. Mistakes cost lives.

On the outside, Branwen Motors was a high end motorcycle repair and customization shop tucked into an unassuming corner of a forgotten, failing town. The out-of-the-way location suited Raven and drew only the most serious clients who prized quality over convenience. They specialized in extravagant vintage restorations and tricking out racing bikes with the latest technologies, and their client base was largely wealthy and willing to pay the exorbitant prices for the exceptional quality of their work. However, a majority of Raven’s clients also had _interesting_ connections throughout Remnant, as was the case when a small percentage of the population hoarded most of the lien. Raven and her crew were often hired for jobs under the table as a sort of courier service for items best not asked about. 

Corbin Branwen, her father, had chosen her to take over the family business specifically because of her tight-lipped, wary nature. “Get the job done and take the money, and we’ll be left alone” he always said. 

She had left with the stinging shape of a palm across her face the only time she told him, “Dad, we don’t have to keep doing things this way.” 

Qrow had left with blackened eyes and an unforgiving addiction when he dared to tell their father, “No.” Raven hoped that Yang had only inherited Qrow’s boxing talent and not his soft, unlucky heart.

Gods, what a family. 

Yang desperately wanted to join Raven and her employees on their runs; kept asking pesky questions about _where_ and _what_ and _why_ , trying to trip her up. So cheeky, so clever, so Summer. Raven told herself that she wouldn’t give in. She promised Tai that Yang would only be working on repair and maintenance, and that this was a temporary arrangement.

A favor.

A debt. 

Only until she got her head screwed back on again. 

Exhaling and stubbing her cigarette out against the windowsill, Raven watched with amusement as her daughter, Shay, and now Vernal sparred against each other. Yang noticed her observations and shot her a quick smile, which Raven returned with a subtle nod and a roll of her eyes. Sometimes she needed a dose of levity. For now, she was content to watch these overgrown children at their play...and dare to reminisce over when she had once felt free.

*****

Yang was breathing heavily, muscles aching pleasantly from a half an hour spent shadowboxing at the punching bag. It was the weekend, a late fall Saturday at nightfall, and she reveled in the opportunity to have the shop to herself. Raven was out on her own, doing who knows what, and Vernal took off early for a big race. The other employees were gone for the weekend. 

A cheery ping rang repeatedly from inside the garage, breaking through the steady beat of her rock playlist. Yang sighed, unwinding her wraps from her hands. It was as good a time as any for a break. She pulled her tank top up to her forehead to wipe the sweat from her bangs. Her scroll pinged again, a pause, and again.

“Sheesh hold your horses, I’m coming!” Yang grumbled to herself. She flicked the screen open, revealing a group text.

**Pyrr: Hey Yang! I hope work has been going well for you! Ruby and I talked last week and we wanted to see if you would be able to get a few days off over winter break to come to the cabin with us! We miss you. :)**

**Rubes: Yeah pleeeeease Dad already said it was okay! It would only be for a weekend, I know you’re super busy but I really want to get this locked in!**

**Pyrr: It’s true, trying to coordinate six different schedules is much harder these days than it was in high school.**

**Rubes: Dude**

**Rubes: helloooooo**

**Rubes: there’s no way you’re still working its like 8pm on a Saturday**

Yang couldn’t help but grimace down at her scroll. A pang of guilt simmered deep in her stomach; she really hadn’t been the most communicative with her friends lately. There was just so much to do! It’s not like her job permitted her hands to be idle enough to text for long, and she was exhausted after her long shifts of solid manual labor. 

It was hard for her to admit it to herself, but Yang felt like she was on another plane of existence from her friends, all diligently studying their way through their freshman year at Beacon Arts and Polytechnic University. She thought fondly of Ren, the other member of their group who had decided to take a year off to work, now throwing himself into a demanding prep cook job at one of Vale’s finest restaurants. She should call him, perhaps.

**Pyrr: So, we are thinking about a Friday to Monday trip.**

Yang silenced her text tone and keyed in a quick response.

**Yang: hey dudes**

**Yang: sry I was punching things**

**Rubes: GEEZ FINALLY we are way cooler than whatever you were punching but thank you for taking a break from your oh so demanding punching schedule to speak to us plebeians for once**

Yang’s smile faltered and she flopped back onto a nearby stool. Great. Ruby was in another one of her moods.

**Yang: damn rubes, hello to u too**

**Pyrr: Quit it, you two. I’m not there to separate you.**

**Yang: yes mom**

**Yang: i miss u too, lots actually, and I’d love to spend a weekend at the cabin with u. let me check with the boss lady and see what i can make happen :D**

**Rubes: You better, you’re already missing Nora’s birthday.**

**Yang: :/**

**Yang: not really in the mood for a guilt trip tonight**

**Pyrr: This is supposed to be FUN, you two. I think we all could really use some time away to recalibrate. Yang, Ruby, I’ll text you both to see which dates work best for you. Jaune’s on his way to pick me up so I have to go. It was nice talking to you both. Let’s really try to make this happen, okay?**

**Rubes: Yeah.**

**Yang: i’ll do my best. i miss you pyrrha, you too ruby. sorry.**

Yang was getting seriously tired of her sister’s attitude. Understandably, her sister was acting out at the wave of changes that had upended her life. Yang had been doing her best to understand that. Normalcy and familiarity anchored Ruby, kept her moving forward, and in the span of just a few months her whole support system has changed. They moved outwards, but not away. They were growing up. 

Yang spent the last seven years after Summer’s passing grounding Ruby, reassuring her that her fears of abandonment and need for stability were valid. But Yang was an adult now and was realizing how badly she, too, needed to make a change for herself. Maybe Ruby was jealous that Yang got to have a mom again, and Yang didn’t know what to feel about that.

She stood, turning her music back up and dropped her scroll back onto the stool. Suddenly overheated, she tugged her tank top off and over her head, relishing the cool air wicking the sweat off of her skin and sports bra. The air around her began to change, a lazy breeze swept swirls of dust across the lot. Intermittent raindrops pattered on the tin awning. 

As she rewrapped her hands, a thought sparked into her mind. Why the hell should she feel guilty about taking the opportunity that was given to her? Summer had been Yang’s mom, too, not just Ruby’s. Yang hurt, too. Her dad had completely shut down after Summer’s death, leaving Yang to practically raise an anxiety riddled, grieving ten year old on her own. But who raised her? 

She had to raise herself. 

So why, in the name of the Gods, should she have to put up with her sister’s guilt trips after being allowed a chance at a new beginning with Raven? Raven was proud of her, and wanted to see her succeed. Raven sought Yang out to spend time together, just the two of them. Raven. Her ambitious, fascinating, terrifying mother.

Raven, who finally wanted her.

_Jab, jab, hook. Cross, hook, cross_. 

Yang’s knuckles ached and she choked out something akin to a sob and a yell, slugging the punching bag with one last vicious blow. She cuffed a wrist across her face, wiping the mixture of sweat and unexpected tears from her cheeks. Her breaths came ragged, but invigorated. When she reached for her water bottle, she startled with a yelp, rocking back into a defensive stance.

In her single-minded rage she had failed to notice that Vernal had returned, wheeling her modified Honda through the back gate and up to the garage door. That was only slightly mortifying. 

Vernal wasn’t even standing under the awning. She was getting drenched in the rain, and she just...observed Yang, with a sharp, thoughtful gaze. The intensity of her ice blue eyes disarmed her, but Yang maintained her stance. Vernal’s eyes softened and Yang made out a hint of a smile forming in the corners of her mouth. 

“Stay here.” Vernal said, wheeling her Honda into the shop and propping it on its stand.

Yang watched as Vernal disappeared into the shop. For some reason Yang felt frozen to the spot. A voice in the back of her mind prodded her to pack up her gear and run up to her room, but she wouldn’t, she couldn’t leave. Her breaths felt labored in her chest as she shifted from foot to foot, maintaining her energy in the cool dampness of the rain and wind.

When she reappeared, Vernal carried a thick foam cushion kneeling pad in her hands. Sidling up in front of Yang, she set herself into a braced position with knees bent and center of gravity low. Yang held Vernal’s gaze, wary yet curious. The older woman raised the pad up in front of her with both hands.

“Go on.”

*****

Vernal had no clue why she was doing this to herself, but she just couldn’t help it. The whole situation was presented so conveniently, so easily. Sure, the girl was a pain in the ass; all attitude and juvenile swagger, smirks and pouts and glances held too long. She was just so _blatant_ , still young and inexperienced in the art of the chase. Vernal felt the heat in her gaze as if it were a bonfire beginning to build.

She was beautiful and brilliant and, in another life, she would have been just Vernal’s type. For now, though, she was just another adrenaline rush. The boss’s daughter. A game, of sorts.

Still flying high from the rush of the day’s race, Vernal walked her bike through the gate and stumbled upon Yang in an unraveled state. She knew she was intruding on a private moment of sheer vulnerability. For a fleeting second, Vernal’s heart had softened, empathizing with the blonde in her experience of raw emotion. While she was unaware of what exactly Yang was raging against, she, too, felt a modicum of relief when she could let some of her tension out productively. Get it out of your system and move on. It’s easy as that. 

And so she ducked into the shop, parking her motorcycle and storing her riding gear in her locker. Against her better judgement she nabbed a kneeling pad from under one of the workbenches - not proper punch focus mitts by any means but good enough for the purpose- and headed back outside. 

So they danced, Vernal ducking pointed jabs and feinting back in the moments that Yang clumsily dropped her shoulders. She was good, with a remarkable amount of strength in her blows, but she was also so _stiff_ , so _disciplined_. Vernal took the punches, reveling in the way that her traps and quads began to burn. Shay never sparred like this, always halting in potential. This was a new heat, a reckless volley of offense meeting her for defense. Yang’s eyes blazed wild, aflame with recognition over a partner well matched. Yang pushed back harder, becoming lazier in her jabs, taunting her rival with confident leverage and Vernal let herself give in to it. Relishing the momentary lapse in her own rigidity, Vernal allowed herself to relinquish control for a fleeting moment. 

Yang, perceptive and daring, recognized the moment where Vernal let her guard down, seizing upon it. Her steps became lighter, her stance more playful, eyes shifting from a smoldering intensity to a bright lilac. Her grimace lightened into an impish grin and Vernal couldn’t help but allow a small smile to break through her impassive features. 

Yang was having _fun_ with her.

Vernal had forgotten what _fun_ felt like. 

Tossing the kneeling cushion to the side, Vernal feinted for one side and then the other, raising fists and eyebrows in a mischievous challenge. She wanted to play, huh? Vernal could play.

She continued the shadowboxing dance for a few minutes longer before allowing Yang to drive her towards the shop wall, feigning exhaustion. Yang was so easy to read, it almost wasn’t fair. Yang looked up into Vernal’s eyes, alight with the realization of her victory and something else, something intense and yet so tender. It drove a pang of sadness and shame into Vernal’s heart, but only for a moment.

Her back hit the wall. Yang, smiling broadly and breathing heavily, threw a jab in slow motion off to the right of Vernal’s head, leaning her weight onto her fist against the wall behind her. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I won’t tell if you have to tap out.”

Gods, she was so fucking _cheeky_.

But still, so predictable.

Vernal held her gaze, her cheeks hot from the workout, and, fuck she hated it, from their proximity. She wanted to hate Yang, but damn it, she intrigued her. 

Sensing Vernal’s hesitation, Yang drew closer. She smelled of salt and sweat and citrus and Vernal resented herself for appreciating it, but she knew how this game worked. She let Yang close, just enough to where Vernal could have tilted her head and allowed their noses to touch, before she gently ran her fingers up Yang’s forearm, grasping her tightly at the wrist. Her eyes darted up to meet Yang’s, which were alight with wary curiosity. She made a point to flicker her gaze down to Yang’s lips and, _surprise_ , _surprise_ , that’s all it took.

Kissing Yang wasn’t soft, it wasn’t sweet. Yang captured her mouth in a clash of salt-sweat and heavy breaths: a claim, another challenge. Vernal pressed back, digging her fingernails into Yang’s wrist and eliciting a small sigh from the other woman. Best not to let herself get carried away, Vernal thought. Better to let this fire smolder, to later wonder what _sweet_ would be like.

She swept her free hand up against the side of Yang’s neck, causing Yang to draw a sharp inhale against her lips. In the next moment, that hand and the one resting on Yang’s wrist tightened. She slid fluidly around the outstretched arm, twisting it up behind the other woman’s back. The caressing hand now pressed Yang’s face into the wall, holding her at an uncomfortable angle.

“Ow, what the fuck? That’s not fair!” Yang glared over her shoulder, eyes flaring between anger, confusion, and hurt at the sudden reversal of events.

Vernal chuckled. Despite loosening her grip, Yang stayed where she was put. She leaned in close to Yang, lips brushing the shell of her ear as she whispered, “I won’t tell if _you_ have to tap out.”

Vernal released Yang, meeting her gaze with an easy grin. Yang’s eyes followed her as she backed away towards the shop door, and she couldn’t help but fire off a cocky wink at the startled blonde before rounding the corner into the garage. It was worth it just for Yang’s wry half-smile in response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hello, Yang rarepair. This is so fun and so strange to write, but again, Yang won’t meet Blake for another three years. Trust me -there is a point to this weird fling pairing- and I messed with Vernal’s age a bit to make her just a little older than Yang. She’s 22 and Yang is nearly 20.  
> Bees are endgame, but not in this fic. Remember this is a prequel to Faults Enough (But Not of Understanding), and Yang needs to work through a load of poor romantic and sexual choices before meeting Blake.


	3. Chapter 3

Vernal had found a home at Branwen Motors as a young runaway, looking for a safer haven than the gang life that awaited her if she stayed in Shade. 

It was as if the rest of Remnant had forgotten about the desert inhabitants of Vacuo. With their fancy skyscrapers, supermarkets, and water that fell from the sky, the rest of the world lived a life of luxury. The code of life in the small shanty towns that surrounded the city of Shade consisted of two simple facts: if you didn’t fight to stay alive, you were dead, and if you didn’t defend your resources by whatever means necessary, you lost them. Law enforcement were few and far between: at best they didn’t care, at worst they were as corrupt as the gang leaders that had a stranglehold on them.

When Vernal was sixteen, her brother disappeared. It could have been due to any number of things: he could have crashed during a sandstorm, gotten held up by a rival gang and been kidnapped (or worse), or- and this tugged at Vernal’s heart the most- he could have simply run off and left her behind.

Vernal’s uncle wasted no time in replacing her brother with her. Vernal had grown up riding dirt bikes- one of the only reliable forms of transportation when your home was a barren, red-rock wasteland- and with her brother’s careful training, she had grown into a competent and talented rider. Despite Vernal not being much more than a child at the time, her uncle expected her to risk her safety by competing in makeshift dirt bike motocross races for bets against rival gang leaders’ riders. Agility and quick thinking won her uncle much lien (though she never saw a single coin). Her opponents were older, crueler riders who would gladly resort to life-threatening tactics to remove her from their competition.

The day she caught the change in the way her uncle’s cohorts perceived her was the day she planned her escape. Vernal had gone from nearly invisible, skulking in her brother’s shadow, to something to be sized up and appraised, a sick combination of both a fighting dog bound for the pits and the piece of meat they would kill over. She was old enough to know what those looks meant.

She snuck out of her room in the middle of the night and picked the lock to her uncle’s dilapidated garage, hoping that he hadn’t sold off all of her brother’s junker dirt bikes yet. One old 90’s Honda remained, pitted and dented from heavy riding in rough terrain, but the key was in the ignition and there was a full two-gallon jug of gas and a can of oil on a shelf for the taking. She crammed the oil can between a gallon of water, a change of clothes, and a bag of snacks in her backpack, bungee-corded the gas can to the rear fairing, and wheeled the bike out the garage door.

Vernal fired the bike up a few blocks from her uncle’s house and never looked back.

She recalled the fateful moment she pushed her road-weary old bike up to the door of Branwen Motors. By that time, Vernal had traveled hundreds of miles through Vacuo to Vale and her shoulders and wrists ached from the rough ride on wearing brakes. Her short hair was wind-whipped, she was dehydrated, and her jeans and boots were covered in a continent’s worth of grime. She propped the bike on its stand and entered the lobby. Silence. She cleared her throat and called into the shop an exhausted, scratchy “Hello?”

“What do you want?” A tall, muscular woman rose from a workbench in a corner of the shop and advanced towards her, the expression on her face guarded yet curious.

“The guy at the weld shop down the street said you were a motorcycle repair shop and I...was wondering if you sold parts for Honda dirt bikes, particularly brake pads and air filters?”

The woman gave Vernal a cursory once-over. A smirk tugged at her lips.

“You look like shit.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Vernal was incredulous. 

“I meant what I said. You look like shit. When was the last time you slept? I thought you had two black eyes, but I guess I was wrong.” The woman turned, pulling a triangular paper cup from a stack and filling it from the water dispenser behind her. She passed the cup to Vernal, who eyed her suspiciously before chugging the water down. “You look like you rode here all the way from Vacuo.”

“...How did you know?”

“You’re covered in red dust and you’re asking about air filters. Why, though? You’re just a kid. Did you steal that bike out there?”

Shit.

“No! Gods, no. It was...my brother’s. He’s...gone. Look, I don’t have much, I just need to get new parts so I can keep going-“

“Going where?”

“Hell if I know. I just need the parts so I can fix this thing-“

“With what tools?”

Gods, this lady just wasn’t going to give her a break. She glanced around her, taking in the pricey tools displayed in the shop around her. She knew the high cost of many of them- she’d lifted enough of the smaller ones for her uncle when she was back in Vacuo- and she began to recognize the familiar wary gleam in the woman’s eyes as one she was intensely familiar with. Vernal steeled herself, bracing for a challenge.

“Yours.”

The older woman threw her head back and _laughed_.

“Sure, whatever, kid. Get the fuck out of my shop.” She began to steer Vernal towards the door.

“Hang on a second! I mean it!” Vernal planted her feet firm against the floor and her hand on the lobby doorknob. She pulled her billfold full of pilfered lien from a pouch strapped to her rib cage. “I have lien enough for the parts. Let me work off the use of the tools. I grew up working on bikes. I...had to. Trust me. I can do this. Please.”

The woman eyed her suspiciously, “What’s your name?”

“Vernal.”

The woman’s scarlet stare burned through Vernal’s bravado. She knew this look, the calculation of _how useful she’d be_ or _what secrets can she keep._ She wasn’t afraid of this woman, in fact, she was curious. This shop owner ran a repair business in a run-down shop in a shitty town, but owned tools more expensive than her uncle could have ever dreamed of owning. She watched as the woman’s intimidating glare grew into something cunning and enigmatic, something vaguely _kind_.

“Alright, Vernal. My name’s Raven, or ‘Boss’ to you. I own and run this place. I don’t have time for bullshit. You’re a wiper now. You’re gonna sweep and mop up oil until I tell you the shop’s clean enough. We’ll get to your bike later, but bring it inside for now.”

“Okay.”

“But first, you smell like shit. Grab a set of coveralls from that locker there. Sink’s over by the bay door. Please clean yourself up. Use extra pumice scrub.”

And with that, Raven stalked back into the shop, leaving Vernal to do nothing but obey.

*****

Now, with the arrival of Yang Xiao Long, Raven was getting soft. Vernal did not like it. 

The esteem that Vernal held for her boss stemmed from Raven’s formidably high expectations and shrewd, calculating mind. Raven was not a cruel boss, but she pushed her employees to exceed their own expectations as mechanics, riders, and as members of a sort of found family. Everyone had their role to play. Each cog had its place in the gear train. Without adherence to their strict code the whole tightly calibrated, interwoven system would fail, and the offending broken part would be thrown out with the trash. Or at least, that was the mindset that Raven had driven into her employees for the six years that Vernal had been a part of the Branwen Motors crew. You had a home at Branwen Motors as long as you followed Raven’s rules, regardless of the ethical and moral grey area they often strayed into.

Cracks had begun to creep their way into her imperious boss’s persona. Or maybe Vernal had simply overlooked the fact that, at Raven’s core, she loved the outcasts, the downtrodden, those who knew of nowhere else to turn for help and had little to lose. Raven had a habit of taking in strays, and this time the little golden puppy was her own. 

Yang threw off the rhythm of Vernal’s life. Her once-militant boss was suddenly _smiling_ and _bantering_ and _praising_ Yang for a job well done. It was unnerving and uncomfortable to watch, and Vernal’s stomach twisted when she finally recognized the emotion that stirred within her as jealousy. 

She tried to hide it, but Raven struggled to maintain the ruse of neighborhood mechanic by day and courier by night. Raven was trying to hide her reputation from her daughter, and Vernal had no idea why, or what she needed to be ashamed of. Why bring Yang on in the first place, if she wasn’t going to make her useful?

Then there was Shay, the closest thing she had to a friend, reduced to a simpering pile of testosterone the second Yang looked his way. Honestly it was pathetic, and she almost considered throwing her little secret in his face just to get a rise out of him.

That secret kept Vernal up at night. Yang, the carefree, adventurous woman that had waltzed into her job and thrown her whole world for a loop. Sparks of mischief led to stolen heated moments when no one was watching, followed by flares of competitive one-upmanship. Thinly veiled antagonism was thrown around as code for teasing, smoldering intent. 

To any outside viewer, it seemed as though they hated each other. Yang was pulling her free of her rigid, unbreakable principles, and Vernal couldn’t stand it. She hated her for throwing off her carefully disciplined routine. She hated her for changing the interpersonal dynamic of the employees at Branwen Motors. She hated that she was put in a position to be a sort of secret keeper for Raven. Most of all, she hated the fact that deep down, she was terrified that Yang would replace her in Raven’s eyes and that all of her hard work to get to where she was would be for naught. She wanted so badly to actually hate her, but she just fucking couldn’t. 

At least when it came to this stupid fling with Yang, she had something (or someone) that was within her control.

*****

Yang could have sworn that time was working against her. The minute hand on the clock crawled along as she and Raven worked through their parts inventory list. When five thirty finally rolled around, Yang wasted no time in clocking out and running up to her room to change. 

Yang had skeptically accepted Vernal’s invitation to her race that night, wondering why, exactly, she had asked. Whatever it was that she had with Vernal was confusing but entertaining nonetheless. It was completely out of her wheelhouse, that was for sure, but Yang was never one to turn down a new adventure. The older girl wasn’t very _nice,_ but she was _fun_ ; words and actions skirting an unspoken boundary that Yang was more than happy to dance along.

Throwing her hair into a messy bun, she set to work picking out an outfit that was sure to draw the attention of anyone who looked her way. She wasn’t completely vain, but tonight she wanted to gauge reactions, to see whether or not her enigmatic coworker noticed or cared about the effort she put into impressing her. Vernal was a whole lot of _take_ without much _give,_ and, well, two could play at that game. 

She tugged on a sunflower yellow tank top that boldly accentuated her bust and half-zipped a brown leather vest over it. If Vernal didn’t notice but other people did, then fine, whatever. Her loss. Vernal’s aloofness was irksome and her mercurial moods had begun to grate on Yang’s nerves, but the secret game of cat-and-mouse was addictive. She enjoyed pissing her off.

She put the finishing touches on her mascara, laced up her brown knee-high leather boots, and headed towards the stairs.

*****

Hurried footsteps thundered down the hallway, rounding the corner and starting down the shop stairs. “Yang?” Raven called from her office at the end of the hall.

“Yeah?” Yang backtracked, following the voice and stepping into the doorway. She slouched against the doorframe, eyebrows raised in question. “...What’s up?” Raven glanced up from the paperwork at her desk, a no-nonsense expression gracing her face.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? We’re deep cleaning the shop tonight.”

Yang stood, dumbfounded. “I- but- It’s Saturday night? I...had plans...”

Raven maintained the ruse for as long as she could. Her lips quivered and she released an undignified snort, which devolved into hearty laughter. “Godsdamn, I’m just messing with you. But seriously, kid, where are you off to all done up like that?” She gave Yang’s outfit a cursory once-over, taking in the smoky eye makeup, low-cut tank top, violet bandana tied loose around her neck, and “artfully” ripped up skinny jeans that hugged her hips. 

“Vernal invited me to her race. I...thought it’d be fun to go.”

A skeptical eyebrow shot skyward, but Raven held her expression carefully neutral. Tense silence stretched between the two.

“It’s fifty degrees out. You’re going to freeze out there when the sun sets.”

Yang slumped heavily against the doorframe, rolling her eyes dramatically. 

“Ugh, I’m going to be fine. I run hot anyways. What are you, my mother or something?“

Catching herself, Yang clamped her mouth shut tight, but the words had already escaped. Embarrassed and uncertain, she toed her boot against the grain of the wood floor, unable to meet Raven’s gaze. 

Raven paused, considering the statement. Lately, she and her daughter had been tentatively growing closer. Raven had fallen into the unanticipated role of journeyman to an overeager, brilliant apprentice. They orbited each other’s spaces, learning to navigate the shared work and living arrangement. Yang always called her ‘Raven’, or, jokingly, ‘Boss’, but never ‘Mom’. Not that she expected her to. That was a name reserved for someone else. Raven addressed her as ‘Yang’; of course, that was the name she had given her, or ‘kid’, but she called anyone younger than her ‘kid’. This particular word, despite being thrown out as a sarcastic retort, inwardly affected her in a similar way as it had Yang. 

She felt the corner of her lip pull into an unexpected smirk at the acknowledgement of the double meaning of the words. A fiery tease came to mind, one that allowed Yang an easy out. In a soft, mirthful voice, Raven broke the standoff.

“Yeah. And unfortunately for you, I’m also your boss. If you show up with a hangover tomorrow you’re fired.”

Yang looked up from her boots, violet eyes searching Raven’s for any hint of deceit. She wouldn’t find any. Raven meant what she had said. All of it.

“Sure, whatever.” It wasn’t said with any malice, and Yang could hardly keep the grin from her face.

“I mean it! No drunk driving. Now get the hell out of my shop.”

Yang flashed Raven a brilliant smile and hurried back towards the stairs.

Some strange instinct tugged at Raven’s heart. She called out once again,

“Yang?”

Her footsteps fell silent. A pause, and then a curious, “Yeah?”

It felt odd, and Raven kicked herself for dragging this interaction out longer than she should, but the need to say one last thing overruled her rational mind.

“Be safe, okay?”

Yang was silent for a long moment, then hesitantly called back up the stairs.

“I will be, don’t worry.”

Raven listened intently as her daughter clomped the rest of the way down the stairs and out the door, revved her motorcycle to life, and took off down the street and away.

Branwen Motors was silent once more. _Stupid_ , she thought. _When the hell did I get so soft?_

A memory flooded unbidden into her mind: strong, warm arms enveloping Raven and the sleepy tiny human nestled between them; a hushed baritone voice in her ear and the gentle brush of a stubbly beard against her cheek.

 _You’re better at this than you think you are, Rae_.

“If you say so.” Raven said aloud, to no one in particular.

The invisible barrier of acknowledgement had been broken. It wouldn’t rectify the years lost between mother and daughter, but it was a small spark of hope that maybe, just _maybe,_ Raven could forgive herself. Just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -A huge, huge thank you to the incomparable @pugoata for your time and advice, particularly concerning writing rarepairs. This fic probably wouldn’t have gotten published if it weren’t for your kind words of encouragement. You’re the best!
> 
> -Vernal competes in hooligan races, which are basically flat track races where you ride your personal bikes rather than competing on a level playing field where everyone has to have similar makes/models of bikes and their tuning is event-specific. A lot of these bikes get really intensely modded out, it’s very “anything goes”, there are lots of crashes, and they’re basically beer and testosterone fueled soapbox derbies with bikes. And they’re fun as hell. But yeah, Raven has a reason to be concerned. Shit gets wild at these races.
> 
> -I’m going to be updating this more frequently as I want the finale of this fic to line up with a very specific moment in Faults Enough. Thanks for sticking with me!


	4. Chapter 4

Raven stirred from her light sleep at the sound of two motorcycles rumbling their way into the back lot. She listened: the sound of her old bike was unmistakable, it was imprinted on her bones. Yang had returned safely. The familiar engine went silent, but the thrum of the other bike remained constant. Gods help her, she was not at all prepared to deal with her daughter bringing someone home at two in the morning. 

The almost-familiar purr of the other motorcycle nagged at Raven’s mind, but she couldn’t place it. Curiosity got the best of her. She slipped out of bed and padded towards the window, pulling the curtain aside a bit to peer out.

It was just Vernal. No wonder the bike sounded so familiar.

Yang pulled her helmet from her head, shaking out her golden locks. What surprised Raven was what Yang did next: she faced Vernal and gently removed her helmet. And then she kissed her.

_Oh. Oh no._

Letting the curtain fall shut, Raven hurried to turn on the bedroom’s bright overhead light. Hopefully the glow from her window would startle them out of their...she cut off the thought at that, she didn’t even want to think about it. 

It must have had the desired effect because, moments later, Raven heard Vernal’s bike speed off into the distance and Yang rattled the chain link gate shut, locking it.

Raven sank down onto her bed, head in her hands. She listened as tentative footfalls padded up the stairs. Yang had taken off her boots, presumably hoping to make her entrance as silent as possible after the...interruption. Their tread became softer as she paced past Raven’s closed door.

Mere hours ago it had seemed as though she and Yang had managed to span the distance between them. Here Raven was, risking the destruction of that fragile reconciliation. It was inevitable- there were two decades of strain that had built up to this point. She had no idea that _this_ would be the catalyst. 

Oh well. They had given her no other choice. The words tumbled from Raven’s mouth before she had the chance to second guess herself.

“You and I are going to have a talk tomorrow.”

Silence, then the footsteps hurried towards the room at the end of the hall, and a door slammed pointedly.

Fuck.

She needed a cigarette.

Raven slid her window open once more, breathing in the calming smoke as her eyes wandered over the tire tracks freshly ground into the dusty lot. Vernal was a disappointing surprise. She should know better…

Tai had warned her that Yang had an irritatingly familiar rebellious streak and that she should keep her eyes open for it. She had prior knowledge of Yang’s temperament and tendencies, she was just angry at herself for not realizing how they would impact her carefully crafted world.

Gods. How the hell had she missed _that?_

She couldn’t watch this happen again. Not when everything was finally falling into place. She didn’t plan for this occurrence, and that fact had her cursing her lack of foresight. Of course this would happen. She had opened her heart to risk, and here it was in blinding clarity. Everything could come crashing down in an instant, and Yang would still have no idea why.

Raven was scared, and as she gazed upwards at the stars in the night sky, she felt the depth of her loneliness crashing like an ocean around her. It was time to make a choice.

_Summer, what the fuck do I do now?_

_*****_

It seemed that Yang had held onto her anger and embarrassment overnight. Raven had held onto her fear, and, of course, it had evolved into seething frustration. 

“Sit down”. Her voice was not gentle, but it gave none of her true emotion away. Raven indicated the chair in front of her desk with a jut of her chin.

Yang’s gaze smoldered. Authoritative and direct, of course Raven’s tone had gotten Yang’s dander up. It amused and aggravated Raven just how much Yang’s angry face was like looking into a mirror. Raven paced behind her desk. Yang did not sit down.

“I refuse to accept this type of behavior in my establishment.”

“It’s because we’re both girls, isn’t it?” Yang spat, “You don’t get on Shay’s ass when he flirts with every woman that walks through the door.”

Raven had forgotten what it was like to be so young and naive.

“No. It’s because you’re my daughter and you’re being stupid. You’re going to do something impulsive and get yourself or someone else hurt.” 

Crossing her arms indignantly, Yang shot back, “Psh, since when have you ever cared what I do? How is...what we’re doing...going to get me hurt? That’s private. That has nothing to do with the job! Why the fuck does it matter so much? We just fix motorcycles— unless you finally want to let me in on the biiiig secret everyone is failing at concealing?”

Raven couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“It has _everything_ to do with the job. We’re a team here. You aren’t fully focused on the task at hand if you’re focused on her. How in the hell do you think _you_ came into this world if it wasn’t by doing something impulsive and stupid, and why the fuck do you think your father doesn’t work here anymore?”

“Because he found someone better than you?”

 _Oh, the little shit_.

Raven’s lip curled, spitting venom. “You think you know so much. Who do you think she was with before Tai? Who do you think I was with?” Maybe it was too harsh, but Raven wanted to shut her up, break Yang’s arrogant naïveté just a little bit, “We were a package deal, the three of us. You have no idea of the sacrifices that were made to get to where you and I are at this moment. I’m not about to squander them for a stupid fling between my employees.”

Yang’s eyes widened incredulously, and her response was filled with vitriol.

“That’s a godsdamned lie.”

She knew what Tai would have told her, the details omitted to preserve her childlike fantasy when faced with a world of grief. Yang was young, and Yang was bound to the idea of her heartbroken father, her mother who abandoned her, and her perfect, infallible mother who raised her. 

Exhaustion pulled at her nerves. Raven sighed, slouching back into her leather office chair. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go in this direction, or to let herself get so pulled off track, but it might as well turn into a teachable moment. 

Sliding open a drawer, she removed a small lacquered tortoiseshell box. Pulling her key ring, worn low on a leather necklace, off and over her head, she unlocked the box with a small silver key. Rummaging amongst the folded envelopes and small knick-knacks, she pulled out a faded, dog-eared 4”x6” photograph. “Beacon Graduation 1988” was inscribed on the back. She slid it face-down across the cherrywood desk to Yang.

Raven watched as Yang picked up the photo, and Yang’s eyes hesitantly flickered to hers and away before she turned it over. Her heart twinged as she took in Yang’s expression, which shifted from shock, to disbelief, to awe, to profound sadness. Those eyes began to water, dark pupils swimming in violet.

Raven doesn’t even need to look at the photograph. The image remained burned into her mind forever. It was one of the last moments she could ever remember having felt pure joy.

Four college students, two boys and two girls. The muscular blond jock on the left is a young Tai, sporting his black, gold, and crimson BAPT letterman jacket, laughing heartily and slapping an unamused Qrow on the back. Qrow, the grungiest of gutterpunks, flips his long greasy bangs and rolls his eyes in the direction of the bright, giggling, young Summer. Summer, clad in a flowing linen top and denim overalls cut into a knee length skirt, laughs warmly along with Tai at their friend’s expense. Raven, scarlet and shadows, is off to the right, beaming towards Summer as if she was her own personal sun. Her hand tucks a daisy behind the vibrant Summer’s ear, and Raven knows that Summer’s hand was resting upon her thigh, because if she thinks about it hard enough, she still feels it there. 

A stifled sob broke through the silence of the office. Raven looked up from her hands and watched as Yang sank slowly into the chair across from her, teary eyes fixed to the picture in front of her. Yang snorted, wiping tears away before meeting Raven’s gaze with a passing semblance of an emotionless stare.

Raven underestimated how difficult this conversation would be.

“Attachment breeds weakness. When you are weak you risk bringing everyone down with you, and I can’t afford that here. People leave, Yang, whether you’re expecting them to or not, and often it’s due to a split second emotional decision.” Raven paused to collect herself before her next statement, “Your mother left because I wouldn’t leave a dangerous job. How hypocritical that she then took a job that got her killed.”

Yang’s expression flashed from incensed to startled in an instant. 

“Summer...left you?”

“Ding ding ding, girl genius finally figured it out. I told her to leave. Because I wasn’t about to leave my family’s legacy to blow away like so much ash. I chose this, because as long as _I_ was the one at risk, _she_ wouldn’t be.”

“What about Dad? He loved you, and you broke him, too.”

Maybe she deserved to hear that one. She reached over to the electric kettle on the corner of her desk, clicking the “on” switch, and began busying herself with unfolding a sachet of loose leaf earl grey tea. Raven chose her next words carefully.

“It’s...complicated. Tai had worked here on weekends while we were at Beacon, but your grandfather hired him on full time after Qrow left. Qrow nearly didn’t make it long enough to get out of here. Hah, when you think about it, Qrow was the lucky one for once. He got out, even though he did it in an...unorthodox manner.” 

“Tai was the golden child. At first, my father called him ‘the son he wished he’d had’.” The injustice to the son her father did have but refused to recognize made Raven burn with rage, even now. “He said things that made me want to push him down the stairs when he was too strung out to stand, but as much as I hate to admit it, Tai _was_. Your father was intelligent, strong of mind and of heart, and, above all, intensely loyal to the business. To us. Over time, however, your grandfather grew to hate Tai as much as he had idealized him. I believe that he thought Tai would make him obsolete, irrelevant in his tiny empire. We never knew which side of him we would have to deal with each day. Thank the gods he’s gone now.

“We were barely older than you are now; we didn’t know a godsdamned thing, except how to fix motorcycles and how to have a baby too young. Yes, I loved him, and I told him to leave with Summer. He nearly got killed after you were born. I’ll bet you he never told you that. Sounds like he never told you a godsdamned thing. What goes on here, below the surface, is beyond any of your theories or suspicions.” Yang’s jaw dropped at that statement. She still clutched the photograph. The fury from earlier seemed to have burned down to a low glow, replaced by wary interest. 

“What…?”

Raven let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Darlin’, your folks, all three of us, certainly never fit the mold of perfect parents.” Yang’s eyes were glued to hers. Raven poured piping hot water into a porcelain teapot, following with two spoonfuls of fragrant leaves.

“How did he nearly die? Did he drop a bike on himself or something? Did he crash? How...I don’t understand…and what does all of this have to do with me and Vernal?”

“There’s a lot that you won’t understand until you’re much older.”

Yang rolled her eyes. “Fuck, you’re just as bad as Dad with the cryptic shit.”

“No, I’m a lot worse.” Raven smirked, passing a small blue ceramic cup to Yang. “Let’s just say there was a...business deal gone wrong.” Raven slid a mesh strainer and a teaspoon across the desk to Yang.

Yang was buzzing with curiosity. “And someone tried to kill Dad over a _motorcycle_? Did he break something expensive? I mean, I’ve seen how much lien some people are willing to spend on a bike but-“

Raven put a hand up to shush her. 

“You talk too much, kid.” She picked up the pot, gesturing to Yang. Yang obediently hovered the strainer above her cup, and Raven poured Yang her tea. Yang tapped the strainer on the inner rim of the porcelain, then chased the drips with her teaspoon as she met Raven with the strainer over her own cup. _Summer taught her well._

Yang brought her cup to her lips, then hissed as the tea burned them. Gods, that was familiar. Raven couldn’t help but hum a laugh.

“You’re your father’s daughter, all right. So impatient. Let it cool while I tell you a story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I absolutely loved the sheer amount of snark that Raven and Yang threw at each other all the way through season 5. You best believe Yang has never had a parent who talked back to her before and, wow, that’s been so fun to write.
> 
> \- There are skeletons in every family’s closet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: suicidal ideation, physically abusive parent, violence.

Perhaps the first sign that Raven should have recognized was just how easily the pieces of her life were falling into place. They had graduated. The four of them had become three with Qrow leaving to take a job in contracted private security. He was safer there, if she was being honest. 

From an early age Qrow had been planning his escape, and rightly so. Their father was firm in his belief that Qrow’s complicated birth after the relative ease of Raven’s own only hours before was the cause of their mother’s death. Maybe it was, but Qrow never deserved the years of blame, rejection, and physical violence that had left him so broken. Raven recalled the way her father would unendingly praise her as a child while disparaging her brother for accomplishing the same things. While this made Raven feel special, guilt clawed at her belly to see her twin spiral into self-loathing.  _ He’s a curse, _ her father would mutter, meant for no one’s ears but her own, _ but you’re nothing like him.  _

She had nearly lost Qrow to the void on their eighteenth birthday, damn the demons that turned him to drink. It was midnight, his car wouldn’t start, and Raven knew why. Qrow rolled down his window, slurring curses at her as she stood beside his old beater car:

_ Fuck you. Just let me go. _

Raven’s grip tightened on the car’s distributor cap in her palm. The sharp edges of the cap dug into her hand, and the pain in her flesh temporarily alleviated the ache in her heart.

_ No. _

_ No one would miss me if I left. I’m a worthless, cursed piece of shit.  _

_ What the fuck am I to you, then? No one? You’re a part of me. Fuck you. Don’t leave me alone.  _

_ I can’t fucking do this anymore, Raven. I can’t. _

_ Do you trust me? I have a plan. Gods, please, Qrow, just give me a few more months. Don’t you dare go through with this. _

They slept in the backseat of the car that night, slumped against each other in the cold. The next day, she enrolled them both at Beacon. She hoped beyond hope that two kids from the run-down side of town could make enough of an impression on the admissions board to let them in, and that she could convince her father of the necessity of her taking courses in advanced mechanics and business management.  _ For the future of Branwen Motors,  _ she told him. She broke her own heart with the thought,  _ and this way Qrow will be somewhere safe.  _

Four years later, they had made it to the other side. Raven hoped more than anything that this lifestyle of discipline and rigidity in his new job might coax him back from the edge he had driven himself to, the near loss of himself that alcohol had only intensified. 

It was finally time for him to spread his wings.

_ I don’t want to leave you, Rae. I can’t let you pick up his pieces alone. You don’t deserve that.  _

_ You’ll die if you stay. And then...who will pick up my pieces? Go. Break the cycle he’s forced us to live. Gods know you’ve endured enough. I have my place...and I think I can fix this. We can make this work. _

_ You deserve to survive too, you know. _

And he was never far. Call it hive-mind, call it the innate connection that only exists between those who have shared a womb, but she knew in her core that wherever one of them ended up, the other would find them.

Summer continued her photojournalism studies for another year. Raven was proud of her; it was apparent that her eye for detail, depth, and emotion would take her far, even though it could mean taking her far away (from her). Whenever Raven stepped through the threshold of Summer’s historic Vale bungalow, it was as if she was transported to another world. The hardwood floors of the little home would creak, sounding her arrival, and the woman she loved would call from the shadowy basement-turned-darkroom,  _ I’ll be right up! Would you mind starting a pot of tea? _

Summer’s home was littered with a collage of the last four years of their lives. Photographs and postcards were displayed on nearly every available surface of the small home. On the mantle, framed amongst her accolades, there was sophomore Qrow. Lanky and not quite filled into his frame, he boxed against a much larger and more well muscled Taiyang Xiao Long. The two of them were arranged beside a candid Raven, dozing carefree in an overgrown Beacon sports field during some shared lunch hour. Raven initially balked at the choice of the prominent area for this photo’s display, but for all of her bluster Summer remained steadfast.  _ You were relaxed, for once. You were you, without those worried eyebrow lines.  _ The ghost of a fingertip along the bridge of her nose, the soft brush of lips that Raven knew even her strongest walls would always crumble for. 

How strange, she thought to herself, gazing at the stars through the skylights of the old house’s second floor bedroom, Summer wrapped up in her arms. How strange to have fallen so impossibly in love with her brother’s best friend, this painfully radiant and kind soul that chose  _ her,  _ even after her own denial, her own self-sabotage, her fear of her father discovering the truth of their friendship...how strange, to be loved.

For once, she felt like she belonged. She had her brother, she had Summer, and then there was Tai, the boisterous blond who had decided on the first day of their mandatory Diesel Engine Maintenance class that he and Raven weren’t just going to be lab partners, they were going to be  _ friends. _ Raven responded to the unwanted hug that accompanied this statement with a hearty slug to the ribs, but he didn’t seem to mind. Raven would give him points for persistence. The man was the last person that Raven would have assumed she would come to think of as her best friend; he was loud, he was brash, and he had an ego that rivaled her father’s. 

Raven knew the unspoken rules. She was “a woman in a man’s job”, gods damn the fact that her father ran one of the most reputable automotive shops in Vale. She had learned more about mechanics before she was a teenager than half of her cohort did presently, which of course put a target on her back. Her guard relaxed once she learned that this boyish jock with a bulletproof exterior also contained a brilliant mechanical mind and a gentle soul. The other guys tried to cut her off at the knees at every chance they got, but Tai was always there for her, whether she wanted him to be or not.  _ I can do this on my own. I don’t need your help. _ He listened, and he would let her do what she needed to do in those moments, sometimes firing back with his own defensive flares. They sparked off of one another, but the truth of the matter was that they were a remarkable team. For once in her life, she felt like she could ask someone for assistance if she needed it and they would give it without derision. Raven let herself relax into a comfortable loosening of her tightly wound preconceptions. 

Tai spent more and more time with Raven, Qrow, and Summer. He fit easily into their group, bouncing off of Summer and driving the twins to the brink of madness with their endless optimism. Raven wracked her brain for reasons why Tai would choose to stick around them, besides the cushy weekend job that Raven had gotten him at Branwen Motors. He could do whatever he wanted after shop classes got out, why not hang out with people more like him? 

_ Why me, why us? People...don’t like us, you know.  _

_ I don’t think I’m the ‘people’ you’re talking about. Gods, the same ‘people’ would gladly throw me under the bus the moment they saw it increase their social capital to do so. You’re the kind of friends I always wished I’d had. You’re real, Rae. _

Raven felt free when she was around Tai. Raven felt alive when she was around Summer. Raven felt like part of a whole when her twin would come home to Vale. 

Of course Summer, the aspiring photojournalist with the sharpest eye, was the most perceptive of them all. One late autumn day, Raven stumbled through the entrance of the bungalow, shaking her sweat-soaked bangs free of her bandana after a long shift. Summer turned, smiling, as she set a new photo on the mantle. Raven deflated when she saw it.

_ Oh gods, that’s from last week. We were drunk, please don’t put that one out in public. _

Tai and Raven, passed out on the floor after too much beer and a late night of board games to celebrate Qrow coming home for the weekend. Raven was on the rug, limbs splayed out at all angles, dozing gently. Snoring and splayed on his side, Tai had reached an arm out to grasp the closest thing to him: Raven’s hand. Their fingers loosely twined together on the rough shag carpet. 

_ I think it’s sweet. _

_ Well, I think it’s embarrassing. _

_ I think it’s honest. You love each other, that’s apparent. It’s cute. _

_ Wait, what? Summer, hang on- _

A soft hum, a chuckle, and a smile all too knowing. 

Tension, digging down and rooting Raven to the floor.

_ Rae, it doesn’t bother me. He loves you, like I love you. You didn’t notice?  _

_ No, I- _

_ You love him, too. I’m not trying to put a label on whatever connection you two have, but I see a side of you I’ve never seen when you’re around him. You’re like how you are around me but this time I get to be the audience to it. It’s beautiful to watch you when you’re so happy.  _

Arguing would do no good. Raven collapsed into the well-worn loveseat, feeling like she’d just taken a fast hook to the jaw, spinning on the edge of consciousness. 

No one could deny their closeness; the strange, almost immediate bond she felt after just a few short weeks as Tai’s friend, all those years ago. He forced her to think about and question her presumptuous grasp on the way life worked. The challenges, goads, and one-upmanship disguised the true intent: to encourage the growth of the other. Strong arms wordlessly wrapped her up when the world became too much, too much even to share with Summer, and she would relish every second of his gentle exhalations against her brow, the rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. Sometimes she needed to scream, to hit something, to rage at the unfairness of her life...and he would whip out the punching bag or the sparring gloves, a convenient release of the mutual unspoken tension that coiled within their bodies. It was okay to just  _ be _ around him, almost like how it was okay to  _ be _ around Summer. He knew her secrets, just as Summer did. He was her best friend, she thought, and nothing more. 

Love is a fickle thing. Of course, it would take her own lover pointing out the obvious.

Summer tucked herself into the loveseat beside her, and a tentative hand stretched out to rest upon Raven’s knee. They sat silently for many long minutes until tears sprang unbidden to Raven’s eyes. She stood, aggressively dashing them from her cheeks. 

_ Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Summer, no, he’s my-, he’s… _

It was too much to keep inside, too much to keep from the woman she loved. The moment broke her, her burden of life as the fulcrum to the balance of the world around her shifting horribly out of her control. Summer leapt up, enveloping her in a soft embrace and Raven’s carefully constructed walls fell to pieces.

_ How do you do that? Summer, how did you know? I didn’t even know. I’m sorry, I’m not leaving you for him. I can fix this. I don’t know what this is, I didn’t want this, I can’t help it, I don’t know what to do- _

_ Baby, hush, you don’t have to. I’m not leaving, either. Now, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me, okay? _

_ Of course. _

_ Do I make you happy? _

_ Gods, yes. Summer, the last three three years we’ve spent together have been the happiest years of my life. You’re my home. I can breathe when I’m with you. _

_ Does Tai make you happy? _

She wouldn’t lie to Summer. Not consciously, and not without a damn good reason. __

_ Yes. But I don’t know what I want, what he wants, and gods I know he would never hurt you, you mean too much to him. There’s...something, but I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if it’s love, or sex, or... _

_ Then I think the three of us need to have a conversation, don’t you? _

A soft palm cupped her cheek, thumbing a tear from Raven’s dumbfounded face. Silver eyes met scarlet and Raven crumpled, grasping at Summer’s shoulders, her knees buckling beneath her. The floodgates had breached and the tears came unbidden, and all the while Summer combed her fingers through Raven’s tousled mane.

_ I don’t deserve you. I’m so sorry. And...thank you. _

_ You deserve the world, my love. _

*****

Strangely enough, falling into rhythm together was easier than expected. Mutual communication anchored the three; strengthening the already indomitable bond between Raven and Summer and nurturing a tentative, exploratory deepening of the relationship between Tai and Summer. Qrow took the news well enough, surprised but pleased for his sister and friends. Her father, on the other hand, would never know the truth behind the love that held Raven firm to reality. He would never accept anything outside of his single-minded view of  _ family _ and  _ the business, _ so for Summer’s safety she kept their love private.

This all changed after Raven discovered she was pregnant. Fickle love once again led the threesome to a heart-wrenching talk so similar to their first nearly a year prior.

_ I don’t know what happened, we were so careful, I- _

_ Fuck, your dad is going to kill me. _

_ Not if he kills me first. _

_ Hush, you two. Rae, the choice is ultimately yours. What do you want to do? _

_ I don’t know. He can’t find out. I can’t stop working, he’s barely seeing straight as is, what if this pushes him over the edge? _

_ Rae, this isn’t about your father. This is about you, and Tai, and the baby. _

_ It’s about Summer, too, Raven. This is going to change things for all of us. _

_ Well, you two are the parents. I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do. You know that. _

_ Summer, gods, you’re part of this, too. I need you. I love you. I’ll understand if this changes everything, if you don’t want to stay. Fuck, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault- _

_ Babe, just breathe...tell me, what do you want to do? _

Guilt ripped at Raven’s core. The world around her felt too large, too loud, static noise screaming in the confines of the dimly lit living room. She brought her hands up to cover her ears. Breathing deeply, she attempted to quell the roiling deep in her belly, uncertain whether it was merely anxiety or the sudden onset of the nausea that had been her first hint towards her changing life.

Summer, on her left, tucked herself up against Raven’s side. On her right, Tai stretched a protective arm up and around Raven, cupping one big hand around the back of Summer’s neck.

_ I think I want to do this. This is fucking terrifying. Gods, this is so selfish. I can’t do this alone. I need you both. You said this changes everything, but it doesn’t have to be for the worse, right? We can still...make things work? As a family? _

_ You know I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I never expected it to be quite like this, exactly, but of course we will make this work. They’re going to be absolutely fucking brilliant and so, so beautiful, you know? Talk about genetics to die for, you two. This baby is part of you both, and you’re both a part of me...I’ll love them regardless, because I love you, Rae. _

_ And here I am, the luckiest man in Remnant, because my kid gets the chance to grow up with not one, but both of the most incredible women I’ve ever met as their mothers. Whatever you all need, I promise I will always be there for all of you, no matter what. _

Silence enveloped the threesome, heady and tense and warm. They had a plan. It was just the beginning, but every journey has a start. Raven nestled deeper into the protective bubble of her lovers, grabbing each of their free hands in hers and resting them gently on her belly. She closed her eyes, breathing steadily, willing herself to remember every detail of the sensation. This was too right, it was too easy, how did she deserve any of this-

Summer broke the silence with a soft startle.

_ Oh, when are we going to tell Qrow? _

_ Qrow’s gonna lose his shit. Gods. Tai, you get to tell him. I’m exhausted. _

_ Shit, now both your dad AND your brother are going to want to kill me. _

_ We’re not telling my dad. Not until we absolutely have to.  _

_ Deal. _

_ ***** _

This gave them precious little time to plan and account for every outcome before the inevitable would occur. Naturally, Raven quietly moved herself and her meager belongings into the small home with Summer to give herself space from her father’s watchful eye. In his free time Tai busied himself with nesting tasks: painting the cramped office room that would become their child’s bedroom a cheery golden yellow, baby-proofing every surface in the home, and designing an extension on the house to accommodate himself and their growing family. Summer obsessively rearranged her furniture, trying to find the perfect fit for all of their things and themselves to cohabitate. The frenetic energy of the nesting bustle frayed Raven’s nerves, and she found herself throwing herself even harder into work on the cars and motorcycles that came through Branwen Motors.

Tai’s overprotective side was starting to show, and it was a side of him that grated on Raven’s heart.

_ Rae, you have to start taking it easier on yourself.  _

_ Fucking hell, Tai, can we talk about this at home? I don’t want him to hear us talking about this here. He’s still our boss, you know. _

_ Of course we can, just...are you sure you should be working yourself this hard? _

_ Who knows how much longer I’m going to be able to to keep doing the things I love to do? Can you please just...back off, and let me deal with things as they come? You and Summer will get to spend the rest of the year doing whatever you want, and I’ll be a giant useless pregnant lump in a few months’ time. Please. Just let me have this for a while longer. _

Three and a half months was all the time they had before the world came crashing inwards. One hundred days from the rushed and breathless tryst in the shop after hours; hands and teeth and lips dancing across electric flesh against unforgiving concrete walls, echoed cries mingling with the hum of fluorescent lights.

He was going to find out eventually.

_ So stupid. How could I have been so stupid. _

Tai and Raven curled tensely together on the front porch steps, waiting for the telltale sound of Summer’s car pulling onto their street. Raven itched for a cigarette, but she wouldn’t let her discipline waver, not with the baby. She bounced her foot impatiently against the front step, willing the tightness from her muscles.

_ We’ll figure this out, Raven. He can’t fire us; we’re the only employees he has. You own a share in the business. This isn’t the end. Not unless you want it to be. _

(Raven, distracted, mind wandering during a seemingly innocuous conversation between herself and her father about the month’s finances. Corbin Branwen had been in one of his better moods; talkative and positive after the prospect of a new fleet repair contract. She should have been paying better attention to her actions, why should her ingrained response to stepping on broken glass feel any different on that day? Her guard had slipped. She was becoming complacent, that must have been it.

A split-second, mindless action: Raven shuffled, hiking her work jeans higher over her changing hips, exposing just enough of her bare, swelling belly for her father’s shrewd eyes to see. 

Her father’s response was instantaneous. Conversation forgotten, his eyes sparked like molten steel and flickered between her and Tai. They narrowed with disdain as he caught the hurried glance between the two. That awful sneer, the one she had seen used so often on Qrow, _ oh, you’ve fucked up now. _ ) 

Raven slumped against Tai, rolling her jaw to try to pop it. Her skin still held the sensation of her father’s iron grasp, nails digging into the sensitive flesh of her chin. His words echoed in her mind:

_ You will take care of this, gods damnit. We have a job to do. There’s no place for...indiscretions...here. _

Tai’s fingers lightly traced the raised scratches on her chin. The marks left a path where her father’s nails had torn at her skin as Tai had pulled him off of her. 

(She recalled the dissonant, metallic clang as tools clattered to the ground when Tai slammed the older man against a workbench, a scuffle well matched between young muscle and seasoned experience. Tai won out, pinning Corbin by the collar. 

_ You will never lay a hand on her again. Do you hear me, old man? Or has your hearing gone with your mind? _

_ Let go of me! I’ll have you locked up, you little- _

_ Sure, try to lock me up and I’ll inform the police about what we’ve been running here with Schnee, with Ironwood? Maybe you could sell the other out and reduce your sentence, but I doubt it. Who would they believe? We’re just your dumb muscle. You’ve been running this for years, and you hooked your daughter and me into the deal with a promise of jobs right out of college. Rot in hell, bastard. _

Tai cocked a fist back beside his ear, breaths coming ragged through his teeth. 

_ Threaten her again and I’ll- _

_ STOP! _

Raven’s shout broke through the room. Tai growled. Dropping his fist and releasing Corbin’s collar with a shove, he stalked to Raven’s side.

Her father brought a hand to his neck. Voice rough as slate on steel, he spoke directly to Raven,

_ You will fix this. You have nothing without me. _

Raven’s eyes gleamed like flames in the night. 

_ No. You are nothing without me. _ )

Heart pounding at the recent memory, Raven tucked her face into Tai’s strong neck. His arm encircled her waist, fingers painting mindless patterns along her belly. 

_ I’m sorry I lashed out so hard, but I’m never going to let him put his hands on you like that ever again, do you hear me? He didn’t just threaten you, he threatened our child. Nothing is going to happen to either of you as long as I’m around. _

_ I hear you. _

The sound of his strong pulse beating against her cheek began to calm the rage and shame that still clawed their way through her belly.

_ We have to tell Summer. You can’t explain away those scratches as a shop accident to her, of course she’ll see right through that. We can’t keep this from her any longer. _

_ I know. It’s not fair. How can we stop, though? It’s all that’s keeping the shop in the black right now. Gods damn him. _

_ He’s getting worse. _

_ He’s been like this my whole life, Tai. He’s just getting sloppier. He’s too overconfident. Schnee’s guys see that he’s just the mouthpiece, the dealmaker these days. They’re taking advantage of him- _

_ Of us- _

_ Yeah, and he doesn’t see it, or he doesn’t care. I don’t know. Fuck, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time- _

_ I hear you, Raven. But things are different now. Our kid will arrive in six months. You’ll have to slow down, but we will step in. Summer and I have some ideas for what to do. Qrow has a lead for some really big news she can cover outside of Vale- not permanently, don’t look at me like that- but if this goes through she’ll land a huge contract with a news firm with locations in both Menagerie and Vale. You didn’t hear that from me, though, I know she’s excited to tell you. I’ll work more hours and save up so that I can buy into Branwen Motors. We’ll buy him out. We’re going to get out of this. Do you trust me? Do you trust us? _

_ Gods, yes, Tai.  _

_ Then we need to extend the same courtesy to her.  _

_ Okay, of course. I should have sooner. I need to be the one to tell her. _

_ Absolutely. You don’t have to shoulder this alone, you know. _

*****

Nervous energy coursed through Raven’s veins. She paced along the creaky kitchen floor, heart pounding heavily as she heard the jingle of keys at the front door. Summer stepped through into the living room, eyes snapping from relaxed and cheerful to intent and concerned in a split second as her gaze fell upon Raven, slouched against the kitchen counter. 

_ Babe? _

Eyebrows furrowed in concern, she slung her camera bag up and over her shoulder and set it gently on the coffee table before hurrying to Raven.

_ Something’s wrong, oh gods what- _

A slender hand reached out to lightly ghost along the angry raised skin that had barely begun to settle.

_ It looks worse than it feels. Tai...stopped him. _

_ Rae, what the hell happened?  _

Silver eyes searched crimson for something Raven couldn’t place, and Raven, aching for comfort, reached a tentative hand out to rest on Summer’s hip. At that gentle touch Summer curled herself against Raven, running her hand from Raven’s arm, to side, to the bump between them. Raven couldn’t help it, she hated herself for it, but her breath caught in her throat and her body coiled with tension. She shut her eyes against the building static roar in her ears, the rising flood of guilt and sadness and rage that spiraled in her mind.

A soft whisper against the pulse that pounded in her neck.

_ Talk to me, please. _

A long pause, and the words tore themselves free from Raven’s throat.

_ I need to tell you something important. You’re probably going to hate me for it, and I’ll understand if you do, but this has all gotten so out of control- _

_ Rae, wait a second. Do you want a cup of tea? _

Summer pulled away and Raven met her questioning gaze. She couldn’t help the flare of frustration that had crept its way up and out of the pit of her stomach.

_ Why the fuck are we talking about tea right now? I’m trying to talk to- _

_ You’re a ball of anxiety, love. Go put the kettle on. I’ll get the table set up. _

With that, Summer pressed a chaste kiss to Raven’s cheek and turned towards the pantry. Feeling slightly unbalanced, Raven stalked towards the oven, grabbing the kettle off of the range. As the stream of tap water filled the kettle, Summer arranged a tea set and a plate of cookies on the kitchen table.

_ Go pick out which kind you want. _

The anger, frustration, and self loathing that boiled within her like the water in the steaming kettle began to slowly dissipate as she went through the familiar motions. She opened the kitchen cabinet that housed stacks of tea tins and boxes of tea bags, considering a few before settling on a small dented tin of earl grey tea. The kettle whistled and Raven brought it and the tea to the table, pouring piping hot water into the pot before returning it to its place on the range. 

_ I said pick which tea you want, not which tea I’d want, silly. _

_ This is fine, I want it too. _

_ Just one cup, though. You have to watch your caffeine intake. _

_ Yeah, yeah, whatever. _

The ritual of sharing tea with the woman she loved was grounding, intimate, and sacred. The truth was that the familiar Summer-smell of bergamot and toasty black tea leaves tugged Raven back down to reality, steadying her for the complicated conversation ahead. For all of Raven’s bluster and high-strung emotions, Summer inherently knew how to distract, re-direct, and center her onto an even playing field. Raven popped the lid off of the tin and slid it towards Summer, who scooped two teaspoons of the floral leaves into the water. They waited together in companionable silence, watching the tea leaves unfurl in the pot. Tension bled from Raven’s muscles with every exhale, but her hand still trembled as she held the tea strainer above her cup.

_ Babe, you’re dripping on the table. _

_ Shit, sorry. _

Snatching the teaspoon, she caught the rogue droplets and carefully followed Summer across the table to her cup. With a heavy sigh, Raven settled into the seat across from her lover, placing spoon and strainer onto a saucer. She felt her eyelids drift closed as the aromatic steam relaxed her mind into peaceful clarity.

Summer was unfairly good at this.

A gentle nudge of a foot against her shin:

_ Now, what did you have to tell me? _

Crimson eyes fluttered open. Summer had relaxed into her seat, hands wrapped around her teacup. Bright eyes met Raven’s with a gentle, encouraging half-smile.

_ I haven’t been completely honest with you for a very long time. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew that it would completely change how you thought of me… _

Words spilled from her mouth. It was as if a dam had finally burst; all of the ingrained years of easy white lies and cautious, learned duplicity revealed themselves, unbidden.

Raven began with a recollection of her earliest memories of her and Qrow being carelessly shooed from the shop when her father’s “friends” would arrive at the shop to drop off their bikes and “do business”. Even at a young age, Raven’s keen eyes caught the glint of the barely concealed weapons strapped to her father’s “friends’” hips or boots. Raven recalled the way her father’s mood would shift from anger to fear in a heartbeat as these strange, intimidating men would present the twins with a candy each or a small toy as a parting gift. She would eat the candy, savoring the small joy and repeating the bearer’s parting shot in her mind, trying to unravel the true meaning behind the words that left her father seething.

As a teenager, busily wrenching away on her first bike, she heard the raised voices in the shop office above her, muted beneath the hum of the compressor. The same ‘friends’ silently strode out of the shop, not making eye contact with her or Qrow. The silence only lasted until they were out of the shop, and then the explosions began. Through unforgiving experience, the twins learned how to modulate their responses to their father’s outbursts and perform the delicate dance of determining which side of his personality would strike out at them that day.

She described how the gravity of the situation struck Raven somewhere around their seventeenth birthday. She woke one morning, startled from slumber by poorly muffled voices and the rattle-squeak of the shop bay door rolling open. The sun had not yet risen - the alarm clock beside her bed read 3:14AM. A tap and a whisper at her bedroom door signaled Qrow was awake as well.

_ Rae, you up? Did you hear that? _

_ Yeah, what the hell is going on? _

Qrow padded into her room, carefully avoiding the squeaky spots of her bedroom floor. The bay door clattered closed. Raven peeked out her bedroom window and watched as three riders, two with passengers, revved up their motorcycles and took off down the main road. Qrow peered over her shoulder, squinting at the taillights in the distance.

_ I don’t recognize them, do you? _

Raven opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat as heavy, insistent footsteps stumbled up the stairs.

_ QROW. RAVEN. WAKE UP. IT’S TIME TO GET TO WORK. _

Corbin’s loud command echoed down the hallway, increasing in volume as he approached. He stepped into Raven’s doorway, fumbling at the buttons of a grubby pair of coveralls he had pulled over his pajamas. The dim glow of the streetlights washed his skin into a sickly bluish grey, his slate-gray hair stuck out at unkempt angles, and his pupils were pinpoints in his scarlet eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and perhaps that was the case. Raven thought the effect made her father look less like a man and more like a feral, manic beast; something evil that wore the skin of the man who ran the shop and their lives with an iron fist.

Beady eyes flickered through the dark room, briefly alighting on the twins before scanning the shadows for something unknown to them.

_ Oh, good. You’re already awake. Get changed and get downstairs now. _

They dressed and clomped down the stairs in their heavy work boots. Corbin flicked on the shop lights. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed to life and Raven’s eyes came to rest on two large Vale Police Department motorcycles.

_ Disassemble them. Now. _

_ Dad, those are police bikes, why are we- _

The rest of the words were slapped from Qrow’s mouth. Raven watched, helpless, as Qrow brought a hand to his cheek, biting his lip to hold back his anger.

_ Did I ask you for your fucking opinion? Now get to work! _

Her father stumbled away towards the stairs that led to the office. Raven and Qrow made eye contact and went to roll a tool cart towards the bikes.

_ What the fuck? _

_ I don’t know. I don’t care anymore. This has gone too far. _

Yet they continued, and those weren’t the only stolen vehicles that the Branwen twins worked on at their father’s behest. Fear led Qrow towards apathetic self-destruction. Resignation drove Raven to wary deceit. Deception fit her like a well-worn jacket, shrugged on as comfortably as a second skin. She grew gracefully into her role as the Branwen protégé; the confident, trustworthy, untouchable daughter of a once cunning wannabe-kingpin. Her father expected to be praised and acknowledged by those he provided his under the table services to. Raven learned subtlety, because that gave her the upper hand. She knew, even as a teenager, that to effectively balance the visage that the rest of the world saw and the seedy services her father had set them up with -chop shop by night, weapons runs for rival gangs, moving drugs and more- she would need to sacrifice an intrinsic part of herself to survive. Only until she could figure a way out.

Despite it all, the adrenaline rush that came with the years-long con of outmaneuvering her father elated her. She would escape and she could make it right, but only if she maintained patience.

Raven’s plan wore thin as Summer’s easy friendship wrapped its way around her heart, a gentle hearth to warm her weary bones. Summer’s persistence clashed with Raven’s reluctance to let anyone inside her heart, but Summer was magnetic. Something within Raven cried out to give the secretly  _ good _ part of herself a chance to see the light, and when she did she learned that the color was silver.

Tai wasn’t oblivious. He picked up on the double-sided meanings to shop conversations and noted the tension between father and daughter, yet played the part of obedient employee to a tee. He was her pillar of strength; a calming force against her father’s rage, a safe harbor in a storm when the fight within her ran out.

And then there was her daughter- she knew, somehow she just  _ knew-  _ and this little life within her didn’t deserve to be born into a world of uncertain terror. She deserved brilliant warmth and golden strength. And whatever it was that Raven could bring to her life. She would do whatever it took to ensure that, but she just needed time to figure out what to do.

Raven stared blankly at her tea, lukewarm and untouched. She brought the cup to her lips, vaguely registering the comforting taste. Deceitful was the last thing she had wanted to be to Summer, but she had ruined even that.

_ It all makes sense now. _

Summer’s gaze held no judgement or fury. Raven furrowed her eyebrows, unsure of what her lover’s comment meant.

_ What? _

_ When you leave. I mean, the times when you have to work at strange hours. When you tell me you and Tai have to work late and “deliver a bike to a client” or “make some last minute repair”. You always say goodbye differently. _

_ I do? _

_ Yeah, Rae. You do. You hold me and kiss me like it might be the last time you see me.  _

Raven stood, dragging her chair around the table and sat back down next to her lover. Summer’s shoulders sank and though she tried to hide it, her breaths came ragged and she bit her lip to stop its quivering. She cupped Summer’s cheek in her palm and a tear slid between her fingers.

_ Summer. There isn’t going to be a last time. I’m so sorry. We’re both so sorry. I’m going to quit this. Tai said he had an idea that’ll get us out. We’re going to do this, and we’re all going to focus on raising our daughter and being boring adults with normal boring adult jobs. _

Summer softly chuckled at Raven’s attempt at a lame joke and sniffled, pushing her cheek into Raven’s warm hand. Her voice was uncertain, barely a whisper.

_ How do you know she’s a girl? _

_ Fuck if I know. It’s weird. I just do. Summer, I might have grown up doing some absolutely shit things but like hell if I have to keep living in fear. I’m going to take this back. For you. For Tai. For us. I know I don’t deserve it, but do you trust me? I think I have a plan, or at least I’m working on one. It might take time, but- _

_ Yeah, Raven. I trust you. Your life hasn’t been easy, gods I know that, but I also know that deep down you’re not your father. You’re good. That’s the difference. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -When Momo beta-ed this chapter my doc was riddled with comments that read, “ouch? ”, “wtf this hurts?”, “wait yes do this but ouch”, “rude”, etc. We’ve reached some heavy shit and there will be more content warnings. Remember, this is not a happy story.
> 
> -For the Faults Enough world’s timeline, these events occurred back in the late 80’s. Yang was born in 1990. 
> 
> \- Most modern cars (post-mid 00’s) don’t have distributors or distributor caps, but they were a vital component of the ignition system in cars in the 80s and 90s. The distributor delivers the ignition charge to the spark plugs, allowing the car to start. If you remove the distributor cap (which can be done by hand, most of the time they’re held onto the distributor with some plastic clips), you’ve broken the linkage that delivers the spark to the cylinders, and alas, the car won’t start. Raven thought ahead.


End file.
